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realized as soon as we got out into the sunlight that I’d left my shirt behind. I was full frontal with wings unfurling out of my back. Anyone looking up at that moment would either see me for an angel or a flasher, depending on the strength of their faith and their eyesight.
    “Shirt!” I demanded of Apollo.
    He didn’t take his eyes off me until he absolutely had to in order to pull his shirt over his head, but at least he didn’t dawdle. Undressing wasn’t exactly rocket science. It didn’t require his full attention. Apparently, my near nudity was another matter.
    Thankfully, it didn’t last. As soon as he handed me his shirt, I slipped it on, wrestling with my wings and finally accepting his help. He was now naked from the waist up and I totally understood his distraction. I might have breasts, but he had washboard abs and pecs to die for, not to mention broad shoulders and strong arms… I had to look away before I tore the rest of his clothes off and gave Metéora’s tourists and pilgrims some destination photos that would never make the family album.
    “So, up was fun,” I said, looking pointedly to the left of him. “How about down?”
    “Same way we came.”
    “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
    If I weren’t afraid of exposing myself to the world, I’d have tried out those wings again. As it was, our descent was slow going, and I slid the last ten feet or so, but I managed to make it to the bottom with more than half the skin I’d started with, which I counted a victory.
    Finally at the car, Viggo looked us over, Apollo in particular, because how could you not, and asked, “It’s good we find a hotel close by?”
    It hadn’t even occurred to me that we’d need a hotel, but, of course, there was no way we were driving hours back to Delphi now. For one, I was pretty sure we’d be violating some kind of labor law with Viggo, and for another we needed to figure out our next move before we went anywhere. No sense going backward to go forward, and I had no idea where to even start looking for Perseus’s cold, dead body.
    And so we drove into Kalambaka, a place dimly remembered from my childhood and occasional trips back for family. If I’d thought ahead, I could have called someone and found us a place to stay, but then I’d have had to explain why I brought one date to my cousin’s wedding and was there with another. And a visit was never just a visit. It was a reunion, an excuse for a gathering that turned into a party, with much drinking and more storytelling, most of it likely at my expense.
    I was tired and still shaken from the heights and the homicidal sisters. I vowed that after Namtar, after I learned to control my wings, I would do something about the Graeae. No more tourists were going to go missing on my watch. It had killed me to walk away from them. No, bad choice of words. It hadn’t killed me. That would have been noble, going down fighting. Instead, I’d run and lived to fight another day.
    We got two rooms. Viggo took one, and Apollo and I the other. Shacking up, and so soon. I pushed the thought aside. We had way bigger things to worry about than whether I should be ashamed of myself. (I was.)
    As soon as we got into our room—nice but not large, with a town view rather than one facing the stunning vistas of Metéora—I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, looking for news. If the grand high poobah of plagues had risen, surely there was news. There was always something—swine flu, Ebola, E. coli outbreaks, hepatitis, brain-eating bacteria. It wasn’t like Namtar’s henchdemons had taken time off in his absence. But I was looking for something bigger. I had a feeling I’d know it when I saw it.
    I found a news station, but it was on the financial segment, so I flipped around again, finding mostly commercials before going back to the program, determined to wait it out.
    In the meantime, I commanded Apollo, “Tell me about this Namtar.”
    He eyed me, as if